6
Hound
“ITHINK I’M in danger.”
Those five little words, spoken by a stranger, had no right to affect me, but they sure as hell did. I didn’t know Mila—I barely knew her cousin—so why the fuck was my curiosity barreling out of control like a ship caught in a typhoon?
What kind of danger?
How bad is it?
Are the cops involved?
Is there anything I can do to help?
Questions cycled through my mind as I stood and left Morse’s office, all the while reminding myself I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t even help myself. What’s more, her situation was none of my damn business. She had Morse, and he was more than capable of handling shit. If he needed backup, the entire club of capable, uninjured men would step in.
They sure as hell didn’t need my assistance.
Still, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what had spooked Mila enough to make her show up here. Morse had been so damn surprised to see her. Why? Was their family as estranged and fucked up as mine?
Why do I even care?
With no clue, I couldn’t seem to curb my concerns and curiosity. Thoughts fully occupied, I hobbled down the hall and entered the kitchen. There was usually someone milling about the space, and today was no exception. Link and Havoc were seated at the table with their heads together, discussing something. At my appearance, their conversation came to a screeching halt.
Link eyed me. Some men had a demeanor that drew attention. Link’s very presence commanded respect. He moved with the grace and power of someone who regularly kicked ass and persuaded his victims to thank him for the experience. He was a fair and just president and a good man who ruled our ragtag group of veteran bikers with a compassionate ear and an iron fist. I did everything in my power to stay on his good side and avoid getting caught in his crosshairs.
“Hound. How’s it going?” he asked.
Not wanting to interrupt their meeting, I took a step back, preparing to make my escape. “Good. Morse needs to speak to his cousin in private, so I… I’ll just go hang out in the common room.”
“Stay. In fact, why don’t you take a seat?” Link nodded to the bench beside him, across the table from Havoc. “We could use your input.”
Wondering what input I could possibly provide for the duo, I meandered over and sat. “What can I help you with?” I asked, sounding skeptical even to my own ears.
“You’ve been a prospect for almost a month,” Link replied, getting right down to business. A busy man, he wasn’t much for pussy-footing around. “What can you tell us about the experience?”
I mulled over his question for a beat. “I’m grateful for the opportunity.”
“What exactly does that mean?” Havoc asked. “What do you think the opportunity is?”
“A roof over my head. Food. Being a part of something again.” People who gave a damn about whether or not I overdosed. It was the little things that mattered to me now. “Didn’t think I’d have any of that after I was sent home.”
“Despite your injury, you wanted to stay in the Navy, right?” Link asked.
I nodded. “I fought my release. I wanted to get my degree and become a mustang, but I couldn’t pass the physical exam.”Mustangwas slang for a commissioned officer who started as an enlisted serviceman. I’d wanted to be a desk jockey, but after they broke me, the Navy considered me too fucked up to even sit behind a computer.
“What’s it like to be a prospect?” Havoc asked. “Give us your take on the experience.”
I needed to answer honestly, but didn’t want to come off like I was bitching about my position. “I feel… limited, but that’s no fault of the club. I can’t do most of the shit the other prospects do.” Prospects usually cleaned, shopped, worked security, and did whatever grunt work the members pointed them toward. Since I didn’t have a car, could barely ride my bike, and my body was far too fucked up for cleaning or maintaining the fire station, bar, or auto and bike shop owned by the club, I felt pretty goddamn useless. Prospecting was all about gaining the trust of your club brothers through proving your worth and dedication by doing what you were asked. At this rate, it’d take years for me to prove anything to anyone.
They watched patiently as I squirmed in my seat. The hard-ass bench was no good for my back, and I needed to move before my muscles started spasming again. “Can I stand?”
“Yeah.” Link nodded. “Make yourself comfortable.”
As I leaned against the wall beside the table, Havoc said, “So, we need to find something else you can do as a prospect.”
It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. “I’m not trying to be difficult, but I’d like to earn my keep.”
